Forever, If You'll Have Me
by whatwouldluciferdo
Summary: 'Nothing has prepared him for having to watch her walk away with another man.' A bit of #ClassicJealousyTrope fun. Set sometime in the near-ish future, maybe mid/late season 3. No spoilers.


**A/N:** I had most of this written before the hailstorm of emotions that was Vegas with Some Radish. Despite those last few minutes, I still think we're in for a bit of a Lucifer/Chloe/Pierce love triangle ride, but I'm like 97% down for it because don't we all know the endgame?

I'll also pop this up on AO3 whenever they fix the spam issue. Look forward to joining you all over there soon!

* * *

 **Forever, If You'll Have Me**

He's standing in the precinct with Ella, amidst a light argument over the best musical artists of the nineties, when she walks in and robs him of his breath.

She looks… absolutely divine.

(He would know.)

His partner is wrapped up in a silver dress that sparkles even under the dull fluorescent lights. The long smooth line of her chest is exposed, teasing him, the front of her dress dipping into a deep V. And those _legs_ , all tanned and toned and entirely too bare, stretching on for miles he wants to spend all night exploring.

"Wow, Decker." Ella lets out a low whistle beside him. "You clean up nice. I'm calling on you to doll me up sometime."

He drags his eyes slowly up the long length of her, tentatively meeting her eyes which are almost shy under his gaze, the soft aquamarine jewels enough in lieu of any other gems. "What – what is this?" He trips over his words as they catch in a knot in his throat.

"You got a date?" Ella teases. His heart twists in a vigorous protest against his ribs.

He can't be certain the light pink flush across the detective's high cheekbones isn't just a trick of the light. "No. Uh – just, work." Her fingers fumble over a loose strand of hair that's fallen from the braid draped over her right shoulder. "Marcus and I are going to a fundraiser at the National History Museum. We think our killer is using the cover of the Children's Hospital fundraiser to meet with Omar there tonight."

 _Marcus_.

"Why wasn't I invited?" The words breach his lips before his mind can catch up, the ache in his voice all too real. "I mean, I love role play."

This time, the blood rushes brightly to her cheeks. "Pierce is our lieutenant."

"And I'm Lucifer bloody Morningstar."

"We only have two tickets." There's a gentle pleading to her voice, a soft request for him to let it go. "Since Aimee and Jason were taken into custody quietly, Marcus thought it would be a good idea to pose as them tonight. We're going to stake out the fundraiser to keep an eye on Omar and see who he interacts with."

"Decker."

Lucifer turns his head as she does the same, finds Pierce in the doorway, his shoulder propped up against the doorjamb and a hint of a smile on his lips that suddenly seems all too threatening.

"You ready to go?" the other man asks.

"Yeah." Her fingers dance in a soft wave to Ella and her eyes remain cast away from his. "See you tomorrow."

And then he's forced to watch her walk away with another man.

* * *

Marcus Pierce. The man she once couldn't get on her side is now all too close.

Lucifer nests the tumbler of whiskey close to his chest, not at all satisfied with the bite it leaves in his mouth. He didn't mean to end up at the fundraiser. He told himself it was just work; a routine case, a run of the mill undercover operation.

But she's not pretending to be on a date with _him_.

The world around him is blurry. It hurts more than it should. More than it has for months, since he learned of his father's actions and tried so desperately to put distance between them for her sake. Since he's attempted to lock away under key everything he's been feeling.

He's failed miserably at that task because who had he been kidding – he could never get over _her_.

Lucifer swallows, a painful concoction of burning hot jealousy and a blinding desperation clogging up his throat and crowding inside his chest. He wants the barrier he's placed between them demolished. He can't stop wanting her. Loving her.

He wants them not to miss their chance.

With one elbow propped up against the makeshift bar he surveys the room, eyes dancing over the guests as they pour in to the museum in escape of the rain outside. The tempo of his heart picks up as he finally lays his eyes on her. She radiates beauty even within a room full of glamour and it's as easy as gravity as he moves toward her.

Pierce spots him first, eyes assessing him with caution beneath a deep scowl as he approaches. "Oh, for God's sake."

Lucifer scoffs at that and throws back another sip of his whiskey. "No need to bring him into this." The tense lines slide off his face as he tilts his head away from Pierce, toward her, a warm smile playing on his lips in greeting. "Detective."

She's glaring at him, the momentary surprise in her eyes now fading behind a surge of irritation. "What are you doing here?" she growls.

Right. _Not_ the reception he'd been hoping for.

Pierce doesn't hide the roll of his eyes. "Look, Lucifer, I know you like to play detective but – "

"Oh, I just like to play in general."

" – and that undercover work must seem exciting – "

"Under _the_ covers is even better," he grins.

Pierce narrows his eyes. "If you don't leave, I'll arrest you for interfering with an ongoing investigation."

"I'd rather she be the one to use the handcuffs on me." Lucifer throws a wink at the detective. "But in all seriousness, Lieutenant, I know you're not going to arrest me because that will blow your cover."

"Volume," she hisses at him. "We'd like to keep our cover for more than five minutes."

"You don't need a cover if you're here with me. Half of these people have been through Lux to make a deal at least once upon a time. I can tell you _all_ their dirty little secrets."

The stretch of silence is telling; they do need him.

"So, detective. I won't pretend it's quite up to Lux standards but it's an open bar nonetheless. Care for a drink?" He lifts one eyebrow in her direction.

"No. Thanks." Her voice is dry as her eyes skate across the crowd. "I'm on duty."

He tosses back the last dregs of his whiskey and slides the glass onto a passing waiter's tray. "Well then, can I have this dance?"

This time he doesn't let her protest but swoops in between her and Pierce, glides his fingers down her arm to take her hand. He leads her deep onto the dance floor, away from eyes he knows are tracking them, carefully blocking her view of Pierce with mischief sparkling through his eyes.

"Lucifer, you really shouldn't be here."

He knows there's an underlying sternness to her tone but her narrowed gaze is softening as he gently sways her across the dance floor. So he scoffs and curves his arm possessively around her waist, burying a smirk at the undeniable catch in her breath as he fits her body close against his.

"Come now, Detective. We have a view of the whole party from here. Besides, you can always mix a little work with pleasure."

"That's what I was doing before you showed up."

He releases an audible sound of disapproval. "Oh, come on, detective. You can't tell me you actually _like_ that awful man, can you?"

"It's none of your business."

Her slender figure stiffens in his arms and she presses on his chest for space. He splays his palm wide across the base of her spine to keep her body slotted into place against his.

"I beg to differ."

"Lucifer." Her eyes close as she growls at him, tearing herself from his grasp and putting a step between them. "You had your chance. You ran off to Vegas with it."

"I thought you understood that wasn't a real marriage."

"No excuse takes away from the hurt you put me through."

His heart crumbles at the watery rasp that accompanies her words. The silence stretches between them, dark and hurtful, and then she's pushing on his chest, walking him back through the crowd and toward somewhere with a little more privacy. They end up in the gem exhibit, rows and rows of spectacular colors that glitter and yet she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Her back is to him now, head bent low, arms wrapped around her waist as if she's holding herself up. He moves to stand behind her, slowing fisting his hands in her dress at her waist once again.

"Detective, please." The tone of his voice bleeds with regret, his breath hot and uneven, unspooling across her collarbone in wait of a response that doesn't come. "Chloe."

He finally earns the ascent of her gaze but her eyes are wet with pools of unshed tears. The world contracts around him in the space of a breath.

Oh. No.

He's made her _cry_.

"Chloe." His voice cracks over her name with a plaintive tenor, all hoarse and broken. "I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am. And if this is it… if this is where our story ends, I will accept that. I just – I need you to know that I am truly, _truly_ sorry."

She stabs her teeth into her bottom lip and draws in a long, shaky breath, her body moving to close the gap between them once again. "You have to be sure. No more messing around."

His heart stumbles against his ribcage and he drops his forehead against hers. He feels the hot wash of her breath over his lips but he doesn't move closer, refrains himself to leave mere millimeters between them as he awaits her move. "You," he murmurs. "Only you. Forever, if you'll have me."

And then she's sealing her mouth to his, kissing him with a different kind of urgency than he's ever experienced, not a want but a need, like sight to the blind. It has his heart stopping in his chest for a long moment until she's sealing herself against him, until space is non existent and it has his heart racing in a whole different kind of way.

His hands find a home at the base of her skull, fingers curling in the unraveling braid of her hair, gently tilting her head backward, opening her to him. He hopes with everything she can taste his apology along with his absolute devotion as he spills all his brightening emotions into their kiss.

"Lucifer."

She whispers his name breathlessly and he can barely register the sound of her voice, barely think past the electricity dancing across his skin in every place their bodies touch. She cuts her gaze to his, her bright blues now dark beneath the black fringe of her lashes. Her fingertips skim along his jawline, down his chest until they brush over his hand and she slides her fingers into the space between his. His eyes are having a hard time staying open, fluttering with her every touch. Her body presses against his like there's no place more important, their hips flush, the flurry of her heart vibrating against his own.

She reclaims his lips and her tongue traces their seam, teasing and playful and so, _so_ perfect. He sighs in contentment against her lips, sucking her bottom lip until she releases a breathless little moan. He swallows the tender sound as she arches up onto tiptoes, securing herself closer to him. His body burns with everywhere she touches and flames of lust and anticipation lick up his spine.

"Is this real?" The absolute awe that fills her whisper heals all the splinters in his heart. "Is this really happening?"

Her smile is so brilliant that he can't help his own from tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, Chloe." He dusts a kiss to her temple and breathes into her hair, answering her just in case she can't see what's written all over his face. "Just wait until I show you how much I love you."

* * *

I'm new to Team Lucifer. Follow me on tumblr? whatwouldluciferdo


End file.
